The Stevie Nicks Affair

I'm not sure why I like Stevie Nicks so much, but my love for her goes all the way back to 1975.  I can't really pinpoint what it is about her I find so appealing and desirable.  I know she's in her 60's now, but 60 is the new 39, right?  At least, that's what Hugh Hefner says.  By the way, did you see where his 20-something girlfriend decided they shouldn't get married?  I'm sure it took some heavy mental lifting on her part to come to that decision.  Anyway, back to Stevie...

In her heyday with Fleetwood Mac, Stevie was pretty hot.  She was Madonna before Madonna.  With her hair all teased up, the five-inch clog high heels and the whole witch thing going on, she exuded mystery and sexiness. There weren't too many rock n' roll witches back then, unless you count Frank Zappa.  Even today, she wears a shawl better than anyone in the music industry, (sorry Elton).  And twirling?  Forget about it.  Nobody can touch her twirling.

I've always found her voice intriguing too.  She's got an unmistakable sound, kind of a cross between Janis Joplin and a ruby-throated warbler (not sure if there is such a bird, I'm just imagining).  My friend, whom I'll call Bob (because that's his name) says she sounds like a bleating sheep.  Maybe.  I'm not sure what that says about me.

She's quite a polished songwriter too.  Who can write a lyric like this-  "Just like the one-winged dove sings a song sounds like she's singing...ooh, ooh, ooh"?  When I think of a one-winged dove, I think the other wing must have been bitten off by a coyote or an angry badger or something.  So I would've written the last three words in the lyric as "...ow! ow! ow!"  I mean, after all, if you're a one-winged dove, that's gotta hurt, right?  But that's the genius of Stevie.

I actually met Stevie once. Kinda. I was at a 'Mac concert and as the band was leaving the stage, she approached the stadium tunnel exit beneath the stands where I was seated.  I was sitting in the first row above the exit.  When she got about fifteen feet away, I blurted out, "Hey, Stevie!"  She looked up to see who was yelling at her and our eyes met.  Yeah, it was only a nanosecond, but it's the kind of thing where every guy says to himself, "Yeah, she wants me."  Well, maybe not every guy, just us delusional types.

Over the years, I've dragged my poor wife around to her concerts.  Yes, she thinks I'm nuts, but what are you gonna do?  For better or worse, right?  Besides, we have this deal for a partner exchange.  I get Stevie, she gets George Clooney.  Even a dolt like me can acknowledge she's probably getting the better deal, but that's fine.  Live and let live.